


How Luna revolutionized the wizarding transport

by eirame



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 00:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2601341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eirame/pseuds/eirame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luna Lovegood decided to recruit a few friends for her new project. They were fool enough to accept. And the Ministry of Magic wasn't ready for the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I possess neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who. I do not try to make money by writing this story.

_"It has long been speculated of how exactly Luna Lovegood came by the idea._

_It is certain that it came initially from the Muggle world. Some accuse the Muggleborn or Half-Blood student body of Hogwarts of having introduced Luna Lovegood to the concept: in particular, Colin Creevey, Seamus Finnegan and even Harry Potter himself. Other authors incriminate the not so secret stash of fictional books and magazines Hermione Granger had hidden in the last drawer of her bedside table; lent to Luna Lovegood by Ginevra Weasley, sister of Ronald Weasley."_

**A true History of Wizard Transport, by Aeolius Volauvent**

 

* * *

 

**Neville Longbottom** was the first one inducted.

As any true Ravenclaw, Luna Lovegood had already made several in-depth and comparative researches in the type of wood best suited for her project. However, like any other Hogwarts recent alumni, she knew that the best available botanist to select a potent specimen would be Neville Longbottom. The former Gryffindor had already demonstrated his genius in all things connected to magical plants through five years of potions accidents. In truth, the force of the explosions he managed to engineer, from seemingly harmless ingredients, had always been directly proportional to the magical quality of said ingredients: surprising, impressive, and very destructive. Thus, recruiting Neville Longbottom could only be the first step of the process.

She apparated to the site of the newly rebuilt Longbottom Manor on a sunny Sunday to ask him for help. Augusta Longbottom didn't even have to greet the young witch or comment on her renowned radish earrings. Luna's signature was keyed into the wards. She took advantage of it to immediately go to the greenhouse sitting behind the Manor, all while thanking the newly employed house-elf who was trying to direct her to the mistress of the house.

Raising his head after having finished transplanting his mourning marigolds, Neville found himself nose to hair with a silently stood Luna, looking intently at his Adam's apple. He didn't know what to expect. The following conversation didn't help.

"I'm happy to see that the last deepening dippers have left," was Luna's only greeting.

"Er, thank you, Luna." Like any of her friends, Neville had stopped long ago trying to interpret her cryptic commentaries. It was easier to wait, either for her to explain or for some miraculous inspiration to give answers.

She blinked, "Do you know where I could find a sturdy but whimsical hazel?"

"A hazel tree?" checked Neville after a pause.

"Of course, I can't build a box with a hazel boy. It wouldn't be proper." She blinked again.

"You should find one in the nearest forest, or the nearest wild hedge. I know there is one at the edge of the property." He pointed to the left of the greenhouse.

"Perfect." She caught his arm, and he barely had time to put his gloves on a nearby desk before she dragged him outside.

"On the left, Luna." She turned. "No, the other left."

And thus Neville was recruited.

 

* * *

 

**The next one** to be infected by this insanity was Ginevra Weasley. She had learnt in a conversation between her mother and her father, who had heard from Amos Diggory, who was told by his wife, who had fortuitously met Xenophilius Lovegood, that Augusta Longbottom had complained of Luna kidnapping Neville in order to build some kind of wooden magical box. Ginny decided it was time to go and see how her friend was doing.

She caught sight of the construction from the road and at first she thought that the Lovegood family had built a new garden shed, or maybe an outdoor toilet. Even a careful examination at a respectful six foot distance – a safety precaution painfully assimilated through her growing years with George and Fred – couldn't wield any indication to the purpose of the strange object. She then resigned herself to interrupt Luna, who was energetically waving her wand while muttering incantations and hopping in a circle around the box. However, she didn't have to find a politically correct way to ask "What the hell is it?", since Luna stopped on one foot and gazed at her.

"Hello Ginny, did you come to participate in my new project?"

"Hey. Is this big thing a part of it?" Ginny asked without a pause.

"Of course, you can't travel without a good broom!" Luna punctuated her axiom with an emphatic wave of her wand.

Ginny leaned around her to look at the subject of their discussion. "That thing doesn't look like a broom."

"It shouldn't, it is supposed to look like a box," explained Luna patiently.

Ginny paused. "But we can still use it to travel? Like a broom?" Luna nodded. "Do we have to climb on it and take hold of the strange glass dome?" She tried to picture herself on it.

Luna looked at her curiously. "Well, you can, but inside is much more comfortable. Do you want to take a tour?"

Ginny smiled. "Take a tour? I don't want to offend you, but it shouldn't take so much..."

Luna opened the door and Ginny trailed off. She could see a whole room inside, at least twenty times bigger than the exterior of the box, with blue walls and a glass-like floor. She leaned closer. "You used expansion charms?"

"Several. Do come in, please." Luna made a small curtsey and gestured extravagantly with the hand not currently holding the door open.

"Did you apply them yourself? It's supposed to be quite dangerous when it is incorrectly done." Ginny questioned a bit nervously.

Luna straightened herself, "I asked Daddy to help me."

Ginny didn't know if she should be reassured or feel more terrified. "I think I will stay here. I wouldn't want to get this nice floor dirty with earth or mud. The big lavabos in the centre look also very nice, a bit strange, but nice. Are there bathrooms too?"

Luna looked back inside. "That's the desk for directions and controls. The bathrooms are supposed to be through another door, but I haven't built them yet." She closed the door.

"Still, how does it work?" inquired Ginny.

"I wrote to Hermione Granger, she kindly sent me the spells she worked on during the last year, to smuggle objects and persons without alerting the Ministry."

"Well, I can't contest Hermione's proficiency. But now that Death Eaters don't control the Ministry anymore isn't it illegal?"

"We aren't trying to smuggle objects or persons."

Ginny choose not to contest this well-reasoned defence. "Did you test it?"

"Of course, all the mice, fishes, plants and rocks survived the translocation intact, even if it was a bit difficult to operate the commands from the door. I had to add a timer. Do you want to witness my first human test?"

"I don't think that it's ..." Ginny didn't have time to protest: Luna opened the door, marched inside, and closed the door behind her, all in the space of her friend's sentence. After a few seconds, the strange box shimmered a moment, then disappeared. Ginny looked around the garden and was relieved to see that the box had reappeared only a hundred yards away. Luna opened the door, and Ginny hurried to catch up.

"Are you OK?"

"Not even a few wrackspurts." Ginny was amazed at this success but realised she shouldn't have been: despite all oddities, Luna was a Ravenclaw.

"What are you going to use it for?"

"To search for the crumple-horned snorkack, silly! Do you want to come this time?"

And thus Ginny was recruited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Of course, I can't build a box with a hazel boy. It wouldn't be proper." Considering Luna asked for a "hazel", I thought Neville would want more precisions, and Luna's precision was supposed to feel like it really came from left field. So I knew the sentence was confusing, but I left it because I wanted the reader to be confused.
> 
> "The big lavabos in the centre look very nice, a bit strange, but nice." I doubt Ginny would know what a console would look like, and I thought of the lavabos in the second film when I saw some old photos of the Tardis. I thought she could mistake the control desks for some more familiar thing: Hogwarts lavabos.


	2. Chapter 2

_"Today Harry and Hermione came to visit. I'm glad that all of this is over and that I don't have to fear for any of them anymore. I made a treacle tart. It has been a nice and quiet day, without any excitement or excitation of any sort."_

_**Excerpt from Molly Weasley's diary.** _

 

* * *

 

**Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny** were catching up in the kitchen of the New Burrow and savouring the delicious tart while Mrs Weasley was preparing the dinner.

"Oh, I saw the wardrobe Luna was building," managed to interject Ginny while Ron's mouth was heavily occupied with the last slice. "She told me she used some of the spells Hermione and the twins invented to try to fool the Death Eaters."

There was a silence. Ginny hastened to fill it. "It is quite big in fact, and it seems to work very well!"

"Which spells are you talking about, Ginny?" asked Hermione after politely having put her glass down.

"The ones you designed to bypass the Ministry trackers, the cross between portray and other charms to ship materials," explained Ginny.

"Oh, I remember now. She owled me to ask for them. But why would she apply them to a wardrobe?" Hermione wondered out loud. "Is she trying to improve on the vanishing cabinets?"

"Oh no, the whole wardrobe disappears, you don't need another one elsewhere. The wardrobe and its contents kind of apparate, or portkey," clarified Ginny. "And she calls it a box, but it is a lot bigger. Like a wardrobe without legs, lying on the ground. We used it together and it works very well."

At this particular information, Mrs Weasley left her pans and turned herself to the young adults. "Ginny! Luna and you shouldn't experiment alone! Remember what happened to her mother, the poor Selene." She paused. "We should ask your father to take a look, when he comes back from work. And maybe your brothers too, when they visit."

"Mom, we could just ask Hermione," cut in Ron, through a mouthful. "She's already here."

"And Luna told me her father helped and checked her spells," continued Ginny.

Her mother hesitated. "I would feel better if you'd go visit Luna and took a look at this wardrobe, Hermione."

"That's a really good idea," agreed Harry. "It would be nice to catch up with her too. Maybe we could test the box ourselves, and Hermione could monitor us!"

"Since when am I considered the adult and scholar of the group?" asked Hermione rhetorically.

"Since you could recite "Hogwarts: A History" in our first year. And you said yourself that Ron and I, even combined, barely possessed the common sense of a suicidal lemming," deadpanned Harry, prudently leaning back in his chair.

"As if you're better. Remember who jumped on the dragon?" commented Ron after swallowing his last mouthful.

Hermione took on an affronted air that her badly repressed smile promptly belied.

 

* * *

 

_**Six miles away** , a horned owl was gliding majestically to her newest mission._

 

* * *

 

**"So, Luna is trying** to ship herself in a wardrobe," confirmed Hermione while they were walking to the Lovegood home. Ron wanted to apparate, but Hermione told him that a bit of exercise would give him a better appetite for dinner. Ginny and Harry didn't think he would need such a stimulus, but they didn't dare contradict Hermione.

"Well, not exactly a wardrobe. It's really just a big box, nine feet high and five feet square, maybe, with a door taking one side, and a glass dome on the roof," Ginny tried to describe. "And it's bigger on the inside; there is a whole room, with the commands in the middle."

Hermione hummed a few seconds then paused brutally in the middle of the road. The others took a few more steps.

"Wait a minute, is it blue?" She finally exclaimed with incredulity.

"Well, Luna told me she would paint it blue to attract more Gallic Faeries or something like that. How did you guess?" inquired Ginny.

"If it is what I think it is..." muttered Hermione to herself, eyes unfocused. "I can't believe it!" She started walking again, quickly overtook them and nearly jogged to the Lovegood's garden.

 

* * *

 

_**The horned owl** was only four miles away now. She was already savouring the success of her newest assignment, and salivating at the thought of the treats her young master wouldn't fail to give to her when she came back with an answer._

 

* * *

 

  **"Is it truly a police box?"** Harry, Ron and Ginny had barely managed to catch up with Hermione when they heard the question.

"Hello, Hermione. Do you mean 'Polish' as in 'is this a hazel from Poland?' Or as in 'have you thought to polish the wood'? You shouldn't be so unclear."

"Luna!" sighed Hermione with exasperation. She took her wand out and began an analysis of the spells.

"Well, I did use a proper polish on a real British wood. No need to verify."

"Hello, Luna," interjected Harry. "Ginny told us about your new project." Ron was already inspecting it. "She said you can use it to travel."

The blond-haired blinked. "Well, it does what it is supposed to do."

Ron had started knocking on one of the wood panels. "It seems well-built, Luna."

"And I love the blue paint you have chosen," commented Ginny. "You even put your name on each side."

"But why did you leave this section white?" pointed Ron after having gone around the whole box.

"You left some place here to put a notice, didn't you?" confirmed Hermione, without stopping her examination of the spells.

"Of course, but I couldn't find anything catchy enough," explained Luna. "Do you have some propositions?"

Ginny and Harry mutely declined, but Ron tilted his head to the side, thoughtful.

"Are you finished or are there other things left to do?" inquired Harry.

"Oh, I did all I could. Now, I just have to find a way to give it life. I thought I could try to have a lightning strike on the glass dome, I heard it was sometimes used in the Muggle world."

"I wouldn't recommend it," remarked Hermione while putting her wand away, "unless your name is Frankenstein and you have a death wish."

"Too bad," sighed Luna somewhat disconsolately. "Well, there is always the old but well-tried human sacrifice."

Her friends looked at her silently.

"I was joking. Of course. It would be way more efficient to wait for Harmonic Coral to colonise it."

None of the others decided to comment.

Harry grinned suddenly. "So, how does it work?"

Ginny immediately grabbed the handle. "I'll show you! Luna taught me and it's very easy!" She opened the door and entered. The others followed and Ron, with uncommon consideration, closed it behind him.

 

* * *

 

_**Only two miles away** , the owl suddenly faltered and hesitated. She flew a few moments in a loop; then she decided to soldier on, and to continue in the last direction she had perceived her target to be._

 

* * *

 

**"… and you just have** to push this button to make the box disappear to her destination," finished Ginny proudly.

All five were grouped around the commands desk listening to Ginny and Luna explain the intricacies. Hermione was really impressed with the different spells Luna had managed to combine. Harry was relieved to hear that nearly all possible problems had been taken in consideration. Ron was already dreaming of all the strategic or simple everyday applications.

"How did you make sure that the box wouldn't appear somewhere impossible, like a place too small?" checked Harry.

"I didn't think of that," interjected Ginny. "Did you use the same spells as the Knight Bus?"

"She didn't need to," interjected Hermione. "It is well-known that you can't apparate or portkey in a space that can't physically contain the traveller. You should have read about it in the seventh year spells book."

"Why would we? We have you," reminded Ron.

"Ron!" Hermione should really have been used to it now.

Luna promptly interrupted the old argument. "Why don't you test the box, now that you are inside?"

"Straight through the garden!" announced Ginny. "Welcome to Luna Transports, and don't forget to cling to the desk!" She pushed the button.

There was no flickering of the lights, no sensation of being hooked up somewhere behind the navel, but Hermione, Ron and Harry all violently fell to the floor in the space of two seconds.

"Told you that you should have clung to the desk!" commented Ginny while she helped Hermione off Ron. She left her brother on the floor, where he was busily nursing the arm he had fallen on, and the ribs Hermione had fallen on.

Harry picked himself up. "The glass floor isn't really comfortable." This new transport seemed to hate him just as much as floo and portkey. "You should install chairs and seatbelts."

"Or even beds, like the Knight Bus," agreed Ron, still on the floor.

Hermione went to open the door. "We have travelled a hundred yards, approximately."

"Could we go further?" asked Ron while picking himself up, now that he was sure that they wouldn't move again.

"Of course," agreed Luna.

"We could end up in a Muggle area," advised Hermione. "Don't forget the Statute of Secrecy!"

"We could just throw notice-me-not charms on the exterior panels," proposed Ginny.

Ron immediately agreed. "Let's do it!"

 

* * *

 

 

_**The owl felt her target reappear** , not far from the last position she had sensed her to be in. She immediately accelerated, fearful to lose her again. She achieved visual contact, saw the human enter a strange little home, then she felt them disappear from her senses when the door shut. She screeched indignantly._

 

* * *

 

"Who should we call if they don't reappear?" Harry asked Hermione after the others left with the box.

"Don't be so pessimistic!" chastised Hermione. "The spells are well-done and all should go well."

Harry thought to himself that such saying was calling for disaster. Hermione's sudden frown wasn't optimistic either. He heard her tiny sigh of relief when the blue box materialised.

Ron was the first to leave.

"So, where did you go?" immediately asked Harry.

"We ended up on the other side of the river, in Ottery St. Mary."

"I didn't think the commands would be so accurate!" exclaimed Hermione.

"They aren't," corrected Ron. "We just left the box and asked a Muggle where we were." He shuffled sideways.

"You shouldn't be so careless!" reprimanded Hermione. "You shouldn't have drawn attention to yourselves!"

"Well, we couldn't know where we were without leaving the box," pointed Ginny while exiting. "Anyway, the notice-me-not charms failed. The man just asked where we came from, and told us the parking was farther away."

"He had a funny expression after we told him we came from Ottery St. Catchpole," added Ron.

Luna appeared at the door. The five friends heard a shrill and angry shriek. An owl suddenly swooped down on the blond-haired girl, let a scroll fall in her hands, and swiftly flew up again. In a few seconds, the bird disappeared; apart from the letter, the only trace of its passing was a white and runny signature on the roof of the box.

Unruffled, Luna opened the letter. "It's Neville. He asks if the box works."

"We just have to add some anti-crap wards," commented Ginny, strangely fascinated by the white guano languidly running down the blue panels.

"And a few armchairs," demanded Ron.

Hermione sighed again. "And I will write a proper notice, in case you end up in a Muggle area again."

Harry rummaged in his pockets and absently handed a quill to Luna.

 

* * *

 

_**The owl came back to her nest** , disgruntled against the strange box that confused her sense of direction. She did know that wizards were prone to disappear suddenly and reappear elsewhere. But usually they left a trace she could easily follow, even if it sometimes took her through the country. Whereas this strange little house! She had never heard of such a phenomenon, and she would ask her fellow owls for advice. It certainly warranted a general warning to all postal birds. How could they do their so important and very honoured work in such conditions?_


	3. Chapter 3

  
_"Amongst the fauna of the Dartmoor, the visitor will be able to recognise many common species, such as several families of Garden Gnomes and some semi-domestic Cornish Pixies. However, the most interesting animals to observe would be either the infamous Beast of Dartmoor or the wild subspecies of Puffskeins known as the Plump Pygmy Puff._

_It is not necessary to present the former; it has been quite renowned for a long time._

_The Plump Pygmy Puff however was recently created by the breeding experimentations of Messrs Fred and George Weasley on the domestic Puffskeins. Some of the early specimens made an unfortunate escape in the surrounding fields, where they succeeded in a more fortunate crossbreeding with a non-specified local fauna."_

**A Magical Guide to the Dartmoor**

 

* * *

  
**Robert Mills** didn't want to proofread his report on the latest bicephalous sheep a third time. Frankly, old Jason Barnes' obsession with these cattle could rival the famous single-mindedness of Aberforth Dumbledore and his goats. However, it wasn't late enough, yet, to leave the Ministry and go home. He thus decided that it was necessary enough to spend a whole hour recalibrating the Dartmoor Sensor.

There had long been wild beasts in the Dartmoor. They were a sub-species of the Canis Infernis, otherwise known as Hell's Hounds. It was somewhat puma-like, and generally possessed a black pelt. Mills had always thought Great Britain were quite lucky to have them: their cousin, the French Beast of Gevaudan, had notably attacked and killed several peasants in the eighteenth century, before it was nearly hunted to extinction. At least, the Dartmoor Beast only terrorised sheep and other livestock. The Ministry regulated the species but didn't have to fear random attacks. The French nowadays still had to be ridiculously vigilant and extremely creative in their cover-ups.

The existence of said Dartmoor Beast had been debated in the Muggle World for several centuries now. Every decade, sightings had been recorded. Some writer named Arthur Conan Doyle even made quite a success with the story of a "hound" on the moor, at the beginning of the twentieth century. These days, on the Muggle side, the sceptics were just as quick at dismantling and denying any account on the Beast, as the crypto-zoologists at recording and defending them. The Muggle authorities always dismissed all questions, whereas the local innkeepers embellished the tales in order to attract more tourists. Fortunately, the Ministry of Magic rarely had to intervene; at the worst, they had to discreetly deter some foolish "big game hunters", more determined than sensible. Some of the agents also monitored the local newspapers and television channels, but the Sensor generally enabled them to recapture any wandering beast before it became a genuine danger to the population.

The Dartmoor Sensor had been built, by order of the Ministry, midway through the twentieth century, with the participation of Artemis Scamander. At the time, a young lad named Xenophilius Lovegood had spontaneously offered his assistance but had been politely dismissed. Robert Mills personally counted this as a blessing, since the way the crystals interacted with the metal wires and spirals was confusing enough, even without the very "interesting" twist any Lovegood could have added to the delicate mechanism. The Sensor was supposed to trace all specimens that tried to escape their designated areas. Some of the blasted creatures were extremely fast, and/or very proficient at disappearing in the moor. Meanwhile, the surrounding wizards were generally too amused or too lazy to help the Ministry workers in their ever recurring duty at corralling the Beasts and other non-Muggle-authorized fauna. Careful calibrations allowed the machine to determine the particular species of magical animals currently endeavouring to surpass Houdini. Sometimes there were mishaps: a wildly cursed rabbit was mistaken for a dangerous Grim, or an inebriated owl for an Augurey. Therefore, every magical signature was continually registered, compared to the database, and the database itself regularly controlled and redefined by Ministry workers. There had been more activity and therefore more alerts during the late childhood and summer holidays of some Fred and George Weasley. Except for these special cases, it was now so finely tuned that it only needed at most an hour of work per month. Usually.

Robert Mills was flitting through the read-ups of the last three weeks, comfortably ensconced in a transfigured armchair, when he discovered some anomalies. He paused, quietly stood up and tentatively adjusted and tweaked the crystals surmounting the massive wooden box that protected the inner mechanisms of the Sensor. Then he tapped gently on a new parchment with his wand to print a more detailed reading of said anomalies. He waited impatiently for the text to stop appearing, took the parchment and focused on the exact location of the incident. He then sighed exasperatedly and left the room in search of Amos Diggory.

 

* * *

  
**He found him** in a nearby office, ready to depart.

"Sorry to disturb you, but the Dartmoor Sensor picked up an unrecognized signal," announced Robert tersely, leaning on the doorframe with the arms crossed, "Again."

Amos Diggory took the time to properly close his briefcase and raised his head to look at his colleague. "Since you came to me, it must be located near to Ottery St. Catchpole?" He asked rhetorically, his tone indicating the answer was so evidently expected that the question itself was only a matter of common courtesy between workmates.

"In Ottery St. Mary, more precisely," confirmed Robert, straightening up.

Amos sighed. "Considering Arthur Weasley lost one of his twins, I suppose we should be pleased to note that the other one is apparently recovering, and experimenting again."

"Only if it is really the case," remarked Robert. "You told me they don't live here anymore."

"You wouldn't have come to tell me if you were truly uncertain about its origin," pointed Amos.

"I just thought it would be easier to rule out the most probable explanation," defended Robert. "Arthur Weasley is doing fieldwork today. Besides, I really didn't want to try speaking to the Lovegoods, so long as it could still be one of the Weasleys."

Robert's tone was now quite close to a whine and Amos winced sympathetically. "So what does the signal register as, this time?"

Robert finally entered the office and held a copy of the parchment to his colleague. "Well, it seems to be primarily identified as a plant-based anomaly, with some kind of parasitic fauna, but it is mobile."

"I didn't hear of any new cross-experimentation. Couldn't it just be a misfired spell? Some kind of "evanesco" or other? On a rosebush, for example, infected by aphids? My wife is always trying to combat their invasion." Amos had barely started reading the information and knew perfectly that hoping for such a rapid solution was purely in vain.

"When I said that the anomaly was "mobile", I meant to say that it appears in Ottery St. Mary, then disappears a few minutes later. But not a single spell, nor a single apparition, nor any portkey is registered in the area. One moment, it simply exists and its presence is picked up by the detectors, and the next one there is nothing anymore."

Amos sighed again and raised his head. "I will make a detour by Arthur's house before going home."

 

* * *

  
**Arthur Weasley** himself came home later than he wanted; the children were already back to their own house or officially reading in their room. Molly had waited for him and they ate the warmed up dinner together.

"Amos dropped by, a bit earlier. The Dartmoor Sensor registered a new signal. He left a copy of the report, but I already told him that I didn't know of any new cross-breeding experimentation; not that it couldn't be the case... Merlin knows that any of the children could be doing something stupid anytime and anywhere," she finished exasperatedly. She may love all of her children, including the ones whose surname wasn't Weasley yet, but she still couldn't understand how they could stumble on so many catastrophes in a single day.

Arthur swallowed his last piece of roasted chicken. "They have been subdued lately, but now they know better than experimenting alone." The last comment was as much destined to reassure his wife as to assure him that they wouldn't do something too dangerous by themselves. Probably. Well, hopefully, they had learnt caution from all their precedent adventures. Or so they were supposed to, as any sane human would, weren't they?

"Speaking of that, Hermione and Harry came here today – you missed them - and Hermione inspected the latest creation of Luna Lovegood."

Arthur's curiosity was now fully awakened by the perspective of a new machine to fiddle with if their young neighbour permitted. "Oh, what does it do exactly? And what does it look like?"

"Like a wardrobe, but now it is blue. And the children used it to apparate. Ron said it wasn't exactly comfortable, but Hermione certified that the spells were very well done and perfectly safe, as far as she can determine."

"It sounds truly interesting, but we really have to remind her that such a vehicle must be registered at the Ministry, as soon as it has been determined as being non-dangerous," he remarked dutifully.

His wife put her fork down and calmly looked at him. "Arthur - two words; Ford Anglia."

A silence fell as he conveniently stared at a very attractive part of the wall.

"Even if Hermione says that everything works well, I would like for you and Bill to take a look" resumed Molly. "I don't know how, but this wardrobe seems to confuse the clock."

"What do you mean?" he asked, frowning.

"The hands couldn't decide how and where they were. They just run around the clock."


	4. Chapter 4

_"You've got to see this! Never seen a TARDIS that was so well done! Sending pics!"_ _  
_

**Mail from GallifreyBill to TardisIsTheBest**

 

* * *

 

 

**Hermione and Luna** spent a whole day testing and improving the spells again.

Hermione had brought her multiple reference books and Luna had compiled the various notes that had been pinned to her bedroom walls. The grass surrounding the blue box was hidden by the heavy tomes and the numerous scrap of papers pinned down by different knickknacks ranging from pretty coloured rocks to fantastical statuettes. When both of them were finally as content of their spells and enchantments as a perfectionist and a creative enthusiast could, they turned their energy to further decorate the interior. They added the bathroom Luna had first wanted to model, built hexagonal cupboards for snacks and blankets in the main control room, and discussed the first plans of an attached bedroom and library. They refrained from immediately starting on the last two projects since they couldn't come to an agreement with the colour scheme.

Ginny, Harry and Ron had decided to keep them company during these renovations and the three spent the day reclining on the rare plots of vacant grass, acting as a sounding board and sometimes human bookmarks. Mrs Weasley had plied them with various sandwiches and desserts. The succulent cupcakes - more than the complicated theory discussions - kept them well occupied throughout the wonderfully sunny day. Nonetheless, they also dutifully took care to act in turn as appropriately astonished witnesses or enthusiastically clapping cheer-brigade.

At five o'clock Hermione and Luna finally decided to take a break and the others convinced them to test-drive the newly remodelled Luna's box.

 

* * *

 

**The armchairs now** installed around the central controls desk indeed made the travel more comfortable, but upon his newest collision with the floor, Harry took note that seatbelts would be even better. A glance to the similarly collapsed Hermione told him that his brown-haired friend wouldn't forget this detail again. At least, the massive hammer that Luna had seemingly whimsically chained to the console hadn't fallen on any head – only on a knee. Well, this time Ron wouldn't complain about his bum.

Ginny and Luna had also escaped being thrown to the ground and they promptly stood up. Ginny opened the door and left the box while Luna was making sure that every small rune-activated symbol was properly functioning and all levers pulled, pushed or blocked accordingly.

"Did the locator spell transcribe our route on the screen?" inquired Hermione, rising up.

A thoughtful Luna delicately tapped one of the fancy maps drawn on the hexagonal panels that decorated the column above the control desk. "No, the last modifications still didn't work." She didn't seem particularly concerned about this failure.

Hermione was more despondent; it was a personal blow to her honour of bookworm. "I really thought I had the correct charms this time," she lamented. "I think I will borrow your Marauder's Map, Harry, they may have used something I can apply to the directions panel."

"I don't mind Hermione," Harry answered quietly. Ron and he exchanged a glance of long-suffering. Hermione would not get out of her research mode before she found a solution to the problem. Since she would just keep pestering any person susceptible to possess the tiniest bit of useful information, it was simply easier to agree immediately and save energy.

At the same time, Ginny stuck her head back inside: "Luna! Apparently we are parked somewhere we shouldn't – a zebra crossing I am told – and they want us to move the box!'

Ron's expression was equally surprised and delighted. "We are in a zoo?" He got up and rushed outside.

"I thought we were just going to take a tour around the moor? Avoid the Muggle area?" checked Harry. He was quite sure they had decided not to risk another failure of the notice-me-not charms.

"Apparently we couldn't even manage to land where we wanted to go. How could the charms fail so much?" Hermione bemoaned, torn between checking the console or the outside. Ginny had left again and Luna still didn't seem particularly concerned; in truth, there was a more focused and excited air about her as she turned back to the controls. Hermione decided to give priority to the console and its seemingly failing charms.

A car horn resounded from outside.

"We should call Ron and Ginny: we need to leave," Harry reminded them as he finally stood up. It was normally Ron's role to get the girls out of their debate about experimental spells and into a more pragmatic approach of the problem, but neither of the red-haired siblings seemed keen on coming back. He took the time to briefly dread what interesting and/or problematic thing they could have encountered outside.

Hermione lifted her head from the controls she was trying to correct manually. "We first need to ascertain if we have to Obliviate the Muggles, depending on what they saw exactly of our arrival."

"And the directional charms aren't necessary to move the box on a short distance," added Luna helpfully, promptly undoing Hermione's adjustments. "We can just do it manually from outside."

Harry turned to the doors; they had left Ron and Ginny alone long enough. Hermione promptly followed.

"I didn't know you had added this possibility," she chided Luna as she hurried to leave the box.

Luna simply blinked and took the time to pat the console approvingly on the corner before leaving; all manuals about rearing pets emphasised the importance of rewarding good behaviour.

 

* * *

 

**Ron and Ginny** were a few feet further, talking with a young man in casual clothes and running shoes. Luna's box truly stood on one end of a zebra crossing. A moving van was parked on the other side, halfway on the road. A red car was stuck behind the box, unable to pass, and the conductor seemed to become more impatient by the second. Some passers-by on both sides were discussing and pointing.

Hermione quickly calculated the best way to levitate the box without revealing her wand, but Luna was faster. The blond-haired girl quietly shut the door and bent down to slip her fingers under the bottom of the box. "Won't you help me?" She had already and effortlessly lifted the edge a few inches off the road. "It's too big for me to carry it alone." Harry shook his head in disbelief and hurried to help her before it fell on its side. He was amazed by the sheer weightlessness of the cumbersome construct. It would really have been easy for the girl to bear it alone, were it not for its quite large dimensions – and the mere smallness of Luna's arms _ **.**_

The brown-haired boy Ron and Ginny were discussing with helped them to settle the box on the pavement. "Fantastic! I didn't believe it was big enough to fit all five inside, but it's also really light!" Exclaimed the stranger as Hermione joined them – she had offered their sincere apologies to the car's conductor.

"Well, it's bigger on the inside than it looks from outside," deadpanned Ginny. She turned to the others. "This is Bill, he offered to help us move the Box when the van left us, but I told him we were plenty enough to do it ourselves. This is Luna, Harry and Hermione", pointing to each of them.

"Really, it's quite sad that the driver left you here, in the middle of the road," Bill promptly sympathised.

"It already was nice enough of him to transport us in his lorry," commented Ron while Harry tried not to appear confused by the conversation.

Hermione caught Ginny's eyes with a raised eyebrow and silently mouthed "Obliviate". The red-haired discretely shook her head in response and silently articulated "notice-me–not". Considering the other mishaps, Hermione felt both relieved and amazed by the unexpected effectiveness of this particular spell.

The Muggle, wholly oblivious to the exchange, seemed strangely enthusiastic about carrying on with their discussion. "So, how long have you been a fan of the Doctor?"

"Who?" prompted Harry when none of his friends seemed inclined to answer.

"Exactly!" Bill happily exclaimed.

Harry still didn't understand, but Hermione seemed resigned.

"This TARDIS is really well-made!" resumed the Muggle when none of them seemed inclined to answer. "How many hours did you spend on it? You even thought to write a disclaimer!" His finger was pointing at the Box. Harry turned to take a look. The spot on the left door of the box wasn't vacant anymore. On a shiny metal plate, Hermione's calligraphy was elegantly carved: "The TARDIS and the Doctor Who are the property of the BBC - and maybe of Gallifrey if it truly exists".

 

* * *

 

**After discreetly moving** the Box to an alley, politely prompting the Muggle to leave them alone, and taking the expected tour around the moor at an unexpected time, they were back, at last, to Luna's garden. There, Hermione explained what the whole story with this "Doctor" was – she had refused to do so until they could settle down in a more comfortable environment. They were now sitting in a circle in front of the renamed "TARDIS". Harry, Ron and Ginny were stuck in various states of incomprehension or utterly flabbergasted comprehension. Luna was humming to the skies with a pleased smile – she was petting a corner of the Box.

"So, the Muggles suspect we are impersonating some kind of imaginary mixed group of human travellers and friendly alien? And all the magic we use is just some nicely made special effects that mimic a fictional advanced technology?" Resumed Harry.

"Well, Muggles are used nowadays to very magnificent digital effects – it has been a long time since I have been to see a movie, but the special effects designers could only have become better." Hermione pointed out, disregarding the fact that none of her interlocutors truly had any opportunity to go to the cinema. "And remember that they have postulated in many science fiction series that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." Ron and Ginny still didn't understand what she was speaking of, but nodded accordingly – Harry wondered if it was the reason that science fiction was banished from the Dursley residence. "Furthermore, you should never discount the fearsome power of rationalization that resides in the human mind." Well, the last quality couldn't be applied to the Wizarding population, but it was correct enough for most of the Muggle one. And both worlds tended to prefer familiar explanations, be they scientific or magical in nature.

"That's why the Muggles automatically thought we had arrived in a van, when the notice-me-not spells told them nothing extraordinary was happening," Harry tried to confirm.

Hermione beamed at him. "Exactly."

There was quite a long silence and Hermione's smile started to fade. As the brown-haired witch seemed determined to recapitulate her explanations for the third time, Ginny promptly stepped in. "So, the Muggles think the Box is utterly non-magical. It's just a tribute to some fictional character that happens to be non-human," she recounted

Hermione nodded. The others were relieved; they had finally produced a satisfying summing-up of the situation, per the witch's standard.

"Great. We're just some handy Muggle fanatics trying to pass for some really advanced aliens." Harry sighed. "At least, they can't accuse us of violating the Statute of Secrecy."

 

* * *

 

**Hedwig was stomping** on her perch, clenching one claw after another. She was quite unbearably furious: her wingless chick had the cheek to disappear again! Twice in the same evening!

She knew perfectly well that he tended to land in all sort of dangerous situations. She frequently feared for his life, and she had to constantly check on his diet and health. Not that he would accept any of the tasty mice she would bring for him, but at least he generally let her groom the ruffled mess that served as his head.

She felt less anxious when he was nesting in the big rock structure – Hogwarts? What did it have to do with any pig? There had been some less than desirable occupants sometimes. Worse, the round woman constantly chased her away when her chick was hurt and resting in a separate place. Still, there, at least, he was given suitable plumage and proper feeding.

Their new residence may have been somewhat safer, but also lonelier; fewer people to hurt him, but also fewer people to help taking care of him.

She couldn't be with him constantly, but she still monitored him from afar. Any good owl could tell how healthy and happy her owlet was, even if it wasn't a nestling anymore. However, it made now thrice that she couldn't tell where he was! The first time she panicked when he disappeared from all of her senses, and she thought he was dead, but he reappeared not long after. She duly scolded him as soon as he was back. And he dared do it again! Twice in the same hour!

At least, this time he told her where he was going beforehand. She knew it had something to do with his nest-mates, the red-feathered ones and the wide-eyed one – those the blasted Pigwidgeon was nesting with and the one Alcyon took care of. She would have to fly and ask them what was happening. The situation indeed necessitated a prompt intervention, but she would first confer with her fellow owls. If the other chicks were in the same predicament, they would have to take action together.


	5. Chapter 5

_"Do you have some treats to placate an infuriated owl?_   
_\- Vexed, irritated or enraged?_   
_\- Mad enough to try to tear at a good part of my hair?"_

**Excerpt from a conversation between the BWL and the sales assistant of the Eeylops Owl Emporium.**

 

* * *

 

 **"Still not the exact sub-species,"** announced Neville, coming back into the Box. They had appeared once again in the wrong place, and Neville thought that Luna's hypotheses about her creation's search abilities were far over-rated. He just didn't want to disappoint her by refusing to try another time.

In theory, using a wooden box equipped of magical sensors to hunt for a specific tree sub-species did make sense. As long as you ascribe to Dryadas' theory about the sympathetic affinity of magic. And squinted a bit. And hopped on one foot. Backwards and counter-clockwise. Just like Luna was doing when he found her in his garden, waiting for him to emerge from the third greenhouse. Interestingly enough, it did count as an argument towards her controversial instinct of self-preservation since this particular greenhouse contained his most volatile specimens.

He didn't mind her oddities, seeing that it would be like throwing Diffindos in a glass house. He tended to think better when he spoke to his plants. Besides, growing up in Gryffindor Tower during the Weasley/Granger/Potter years begot immunity to all eccentricities.

Luna had finally come to a stop in front of him, after a last circle around the Box that had appeared on his lawn. She had explained she had received his letter and wanted to show him the finished product of his latest cooperation since he had procured the wooden frame.

Then they had spoken of his difficulties in finding a specific sub-species of willow.

Thereupon she had convinced him to try the search option of her Box.

 

* * *

 

 **On the first time,** they found themselves in the garden of Mr. Diggory. They saluted his wife, helped her to replant some Gossiping Gladioli to atone for the fright they gave her – she was trying to set them on the east side whereas this species favoured the shadowed corners. Then they took off again.

On the second time, they found themselves near a creek. An old couple was panicking on the bank, bending over the water with hands outstretched and screaming for help: "Jack! Jack! Please, someone, save him!" Neville acted as a true Gryffindor: he didn't hesitate to plunge in the cold water with shoes and overcoat and carried the drowning "Jack" back to earth. The couple was so worried about their old dog taking ill – he was so arthritic, he apparently wasn't able to swim anymore - that they hastened back to their home without thanks. At least, Luna knew some efficient spells to clean his shoes and clothes from the mud he had traded when walking on the bottom of the stream.

On the third time, they appeared in a greenery. They looked around. They helped a young mother who had difficulties putting her pots of geraniums in her trolley since she simultaneously tried to prevent her two-years-old from snatching the leaves of the nearby oleanders.

On their next stop, it started raining.

There was still no sign of the tree they were searching.

After the fourth – a lost child in a city park – and fifth try – some hens escaping from their coop - they just stayed in the Tardis.

"Luna..."

She fiddled with her feet against the central console. "Sorry, the Nargles... no, sorry, it's just..."

Neville took an inspiration, centered himself. "Just, what?"

He waited patiently. Luna kept fiddling with her sleeves and avoiding his eyes. She took a deeper breath. "Just.. We're not in Hogwarts anymore, you see..."  
Neville tried to smile reassuringly, even if she still didn't raise her head. "Well, it took some time to graduate properly."

"Yes, but we're not in Hogwarts anymore..." She started unraveling the hem of her blouse but kept speaking. "Hermione is applying to several apprenticeships. Ginny is looking in a Quidditch career. Dad asked me if I wanted to be a full-time reporter..."

Neville still didn't understand what the problem was, but he tried to empathize. "It's the same for me. Grand-mum and our family attorney are teaching me the family business. They told me I should take over progressively since neither of them is getting any younger."

Luna nodded. "I thought so. And it's natural to quit school and search for work. But... we're not in Hogwarts anymore..."

Neville, still seated in one of the armchairs, leaned towards her. "You miss Hogwarts so much?"

She finally raised her head and looked in his eyes. "It's not the castle, and it's not the people. It's just... we don't see each other as often as before, it was kind of nice to be part of the D.A... And..."

Neville moved back against his seat and contemplated her problem. "And now we may be friends but we rarely meet anymore."

Luna sighed and smiled faintly. "It may a bit selfish, but I thought that if we had something in common..."

Neville raised his hands and hastened to add. "No, it's nice, it's truly nice. Another grand adventure, but without any death." A pause. "It shouldn't be difficult to find a more credible excuse in order to invite the others."

 

* * *

 

 **In the mind of the superior authorities** of the Ministry, the Office for Muggle Supervision was a necessary evil. They were charged with monitoring the newspapers and other Muggle media. In truth, said superior didn't understand what these other media should entail. It had been difficult to convince them that the wireless network, otherwise known as radio, had been the adaptation of a Muggle invention. Nonetheless, they were assured by the Department of Mysteries that the Muggles had now developed other means of communication than letters and newspapers.

The Office for Muggle Supervision had been generously attributed an area on the same floor as the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. The one room was appallingly small, too small in fact to accommodate the three people that composed the forces at the same time. Only one could take place behind the desk. Another one could sit in front of the said desk, as long as the door was open and the back legs of their chair in the hall. During the mandated weekly reunion, the third one had to perch precariously on the file cabinets. The two cabinets had been graciously donated by the Department of Magical Transportation and fortunately they were of the same height, albeit slightly dented. There was no window. The only part of the walls left free from the compulsory memoranda was dedicated to a poster. It pictured a flattened ellipsoid in the sky, above a forested landscape, and a headline in white capital letters declaring "I want to believe".

"So, what did we find this week?" Allen Conway was a thirty-years-old Muggleborn from Cardiff. He sincerely thought he was lucky to have obtained this job in the Ministry, and he wasn't jaded much by the fact that he would probably never gain a more significant position.

"The tabloids write about about an oblong OVNI above the Isle of Man." Gawain Campbell was in charge of the newspapers survey. As a half-blood Ravenclaw, he could have certainly asked for another department. He knew it, but he just liked his current one. He was free to set his hours, to pursue some of his hobbies and be paid for it, and his co-workers were all together nice blokes.

"Do you think it could be another local trying to create a new breed of seals?" Bill Newton was their latest recruit. He was hired when his colleagues managed to convince the Ministry that the recent development of a communications medium called "Internet" warranted the recruitment of a specialist. He was left to perch on the file cabinets since Conway and Campbell had seniority.

"No, they have long stopped such outlandish tentatives," asserted Conway. "Besides, the Muggles there are incredibly accepting: just think about the tailless cat and the six-horned sheep. They wouldn't actually care about a flying seal, and they would convince any tourist that they drank too much."

"It's way more probable that the Muggle army wasn't discreet enough when testing a new plane or drone, as they call their new pilotless engines," proposed Newton.  
Campbell happily concluded. "So, we can safely put this one in the "not our problem" trash."

"Leave it to me, it is always good for a few laughs." Meanwhile, Newton used it to soften his seat.

Campbell fell back in his chair and clapped his hands. "What else?"

"Nothing new on the local channels," announced Conway. "Some strange sightings in the Dartmoor, but the Department for Creatures will take care of it, as usual."  
"Speaking of Dartmoor, there was some rumours of an operating Tardis, on the net." Newton happily interjected.

"Another one?" Conway was sceptical. Since magic was real, he already tried to investigate other myths. He was most displeased to find no trace of any spacetime rift in Cardiff. He did find several mermaids.

Newton leaned forwards and lifted an index. "But this one was tracked appearing nearly simultaneously by different people at a thirty kilometers distance."

"Some cosplaying muggles who chose the same Doctor?" Campbell proposed. Doctor Who was a popular series amongst the Muggles and Muggleborns. The non-magical side of his family took care of his primary education in the matter and his co-workers polished the rest.

Newton refuted. "It still hasn't been claimed by any of the Muggle specialists, nor the publicists."

"Do they think that it could be attributed to magic? Do you even have any proof towards a magical cause?" Conway interrupted.

"Well, no..." Newton lowered his hand.

"Then, it's not our problem. " He sighed. "I don't have anything on the news channel, do any of you have something else to add before we conclude our meeting?"

Campbell hastened to retrieve another tabloïd from his briefcase. "You won't believe this one!"

The first page announced theatrically in capital letters: "My husband was devoured by a giant cockroach."

 

* * *

 

 **M. and Mrs Weasley** felt they had ample reasons to feel worried.

\- Molly had ruined her famous treacle tart thrice in the same evening.

\- Ginny asked Ron to accompany her in the Muggle World for a tour of the libraries.

\- Ron accepted.

\- Some phenomenon was troubling their clock.

\- Hermione came to Arthur to ask for clarification about some points of the Statute of Secrecy.

\- Errol was moulting again.

\- The Garden Gnomes refused to come out of their holes.

Taken separately, these events weren't particularly significant, but all of them occurring in the single space of a few days? It wasn't quite the first signs of the apocalypse, but it was certainly the presages of another "Golden-Trio-induced-perilous-adventure".

Merlin help them all.

They would have to inquire when their older sons would come back for a visit. Even better, they would just strongly suggest said visit.

 

* * *

 

 **"The time has come."** The tone was solemn.

"All other ventures have been explored." It sounded like long-suffering resignation, but it had been decided only a minute sooner.

"It will signify your official initiation in the superior functions of our department." Considering he had already been working with them for several months, he knew it wasn't much of an encouragement.

"We will always remember your sanity fondly." The accompanying pat on the shoulder must have been revenge for the time he misfiled a case.

"Take it as a rite of passage for all aspiring cryptozoologists." An independent career away from the Ministry seemed more and more attractive the longer he worked there.

Rolf Scamander had been raised amongst the notes and books of his grandfather. He had been similarly interested by all kinds of magical creatures. His father did advise him against joining the Ministry, but he was of the opinion that a parent should always let their children experience their errors. Rolf really should have listened to him.

Nonetheless, he was both uncertain and curious from his co-workers' reactions to the Lovegood name. What could be so dangerous with questioning them about a supposed new Dartmoor creature? The Quibbler may have been strange and humorous, but all of the family had been in Ravenclaw; despite the rumours, they should be perfectly reasonable and polite.

 

* * *

 

 **Hedwig was pleased** to have gained an audience with one of the Elders.

She had met Rubicon at Radley's home, and he had confessed that he had similar problems with his owlet. As usual, since the toad Trevor was useless, he had decided to ask his nestmates' guardians for more information.

He had used his contacts. At the next dawn, they were perched in the magnificent owlery of an old manor and fed some treats by the residing House-elves. They were waiting for the old screech owl that represented the council of elders locally to finish his plump field mouse.

The first audience was appointed to a scrawny tawny owl who was puffing his feathers impatiently. Hedwig was glad that Pigwidgeon forgot to follow them and that her current companions were able to stay poised and silent.

Elder Athenus raised his beak for the last time and the tail of the mouse disappeared. He took care to set himself comfortably on his perch. The big barred owl that was charged with keeping order in the owlery clicked three times to signify the start of the audiences.

The tawny owl promptly flew down on another perch lower than the Elder and started vehemently describing his territory problems with his neighbour owl, punctuating his story with wings flapping, sporadic talon clenching and neck swivelling.

The Elder patiently listened to his explanations, asked for some precisions, reflected a few minutes in silence, then proposed a solution. The tawny owl seemed satisfied, hooted his thanks and flew outside.

Then the barred owl turned his imperious beak to them.


End file.
